MY BROTHER'S KEEPER
Sam nodded to the bartender. "Whiskey."
"You've had enough."
The bartender shrugged, refilled his glass.
Sam drained it, set it back down on the bar with a sharp rap.
Dean watched from across the room, nursing a single beer. When Sam finally left, he followed.
Eyes blind with liquor and grief, Sam walked down the street to their motel room and fell into bed, unconscious before Dean could shut the door behind them.
Dean stripped him, slid him under the blankets. He sat down on the opposite bed.
And grieved with him.